Snakeskin Assassin by Bryce Bell

Author:Bryce Bell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller fiction, thriller books, thriller book series, thriller novels, spy thriller books, action thriller fiction
Publisher: Sportscar Projects Ltd.
Published: 2022-12-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

The Ahmen turned on the radio and cranked up the tunes of LA’s KROQ 106.7. He cruised down Doheny to Santa Monica, turned right and then right again up North Canon and into Beverly Hills. He drove up to the Beverly Hills Hotel and onto North Crescent, past the bungalows of the hotel and into the hills where the town got its name.

He found Director Tower’s home near where Carolyn Way meets Marilyn Drive and parked two blocks away. The street was dark as he slipped one knife into the calf holster, attached a few grenades to his belt, loaded and slung an AK-47 over his shoulder and rammed one of the Sig Sauer pistols into the hip holster. He closed the trunk, put on the Snakeskin helmet and walked up the street to Tower’s house.

The neighborhood was quiet, drapes drawn and lights low, the occasional flicker of big-screen TV’s lighting up a media room window. Each house had a modest but distinct security sign at eye level, facing the street. They tempted the Ahmen to rake each house with automatic fire but he suppressed that impulse as he crossed Marilyn Drive and stepped onto the driveway of Tower’s modest bungalow, compared to others on the street.

He slipped along the side of the house, looking for a window with lights on. There was none. In the back, he jimmied a window with his knife and eased it open, waiting for an alarm to sound. He heard nothing, so he figured it was a silent alarm designed to catch him in the house. Sure enough, inside the back room was a flashing red light on the windowsill, a silent alarm.

Still, he had a few minutes, plenty for what he wanted to do. He walked into the hallway, down to the master bedroom. On purpose, he knocked over a vase, letting it shatter on the shiny hardwood floor.

He heard a soft gasp in the bedroom and movement. He imagined she would scramble for the night table drawer. He pushed the bedroom door open and stood inside, waiting for the shot.

“Don’t come any closer!” yelled a small, terrified voice from the bedroom. “The police will be here. Just leave, you hear me! Leave or I’ll shoot!”

The Ahmen took a step closer. He heard a loud bang as the woman shot him in the chest. The force knocked him back, as if someone had kicked him. He fell and rolled out of the room.

“I warned you!” she yelled. She turned on the light beside the bed. She was on her knees in her bed, gun held in both hands like her husband had taught her. She looked at the doorway, seeing nothing. She expected a body but there was nothing, no blood, no intruder. She waited, shaking.

The Ahmen dove into the bedroom, body rolling until he was beside the bed. The woman was too slow to react as he stood up. With one hand, he grabbed the gun and with the other; he grabbed the woman by the neck.

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